Tuesday, March 14, 2017

Dreams

Does it mean anything to interpret your dreams? I go through phases where I don't dream much at all - probably due to my use of Mary Jane, the wonder sleep drug. Whenever I stop smoking ganj, my head is flooded with the wildest imagery and scenarios. Last week, I dreamed I was cuddling in a bed with GG Allin. He had a big, bushy, salt-and-pepper beard and looked like a skeletal Charles Manson and had a greasy patina all over his body. Where had he been hiding all these years? Why was he back now, and why in the hell was I cuddling this disgusting King of Filth? A mixture of terror and intrigue washed over me in my subliminal thoughts. Somehow, it was decided that my band was to open for him at a concert in a park. I was stoked and ran off to tell everyone, only to come back and find that all trace of GG and the concert had disappeared.
Again, last night, my mind was full of meaningless scenarios and questionable characters: the rain had flooded our rural hillside house. A stranger was about while we were preparing for a banquet or wedding. The house was a ramshackle, multi-room cabin in the woods. The trees were skraggy with all foliage blown away from the winter rains. Through the mud, my friend Bar and I tracked the lurking stranger. He was one of my produce accounts, a guy who was a bit surly and clueless. He was in another cabin. We asked him what he was doing there and the answer seemed vague. He seemed to be in a tortured state, so we took pity on him. Flash forward to driving on Highway 199 north of Gasquet, California. It's only me and the kids in the car. We decide to take a turn up a twisty side-road, up to a secret woods community of off-the-grid neighbors, salt-of-the-earth river folk. An extra kid, who is a friend, is with us. He somehow either takes LSD or administers it to the group. The Manson-esque hippies are not pleased and beat the children. I am afraid but I let the beatings continue. We hurriedly assemble ourselves and get back in the car to get the hell off the mountain and start to drive back home to Portland.
~finis~


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